


Falling in line

by DraculesqueBamuchkin



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Experimentation, Masochism, Medical, Mutilation, Sadism, Slavery, Stockholm Syndrome, Stream of Consciousness, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26387230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraculesqueBamuchkin/pseuds/DraculesqueBamuchkin
Summary: It was a task that befell every Hellsing at one point or another. They could break him a dozen times, turn him into an unrecognizable monster, and bend his will to their own. But they could never truly keep Alucard from disobeying.
Kudos: 10





	Falling in line

Integra Fairbrooke Wingates Hellsing.

The last surviving member of her family, and the sole heir to the Hellsing Organization; A beauty among mortals and a terror among beasts. Her name rings clearly in the ears of the damned, as her Servant eagerly announces his ties. All was silent on this night, however. There were no monsters to speak of, save for the ancient vampire and his young fledgling. But the head of Hellsing found herself preoccupied with the former of the two on this night. He’d committed yet another act of carelessness, resulting in the deaths of a dozen men.

She’d called him to her office earlier. Berated him for his stupidity. Ordered him back to his lair to wait on her. And all she’d gotten in return was a wry smile and a humble “I’ll be waiting, Master.” She knew his game of trying to unnerve her, or to make it seem like this wouldn’t work. But it always did, in one way or another. Even if he tried to convince her otherwise.

Skulking back to his dungeon, Alucard had some time to think to himself.

How unfortunate that, at the end of all things, he’d become completely numb. Conditioned and trained, mutilated and tortured, there was very few things that could disturb the ancient vampire. He’d simultaneously become the perfect assassin and the perfect slave.

Why, then, did he give in to the beatings? Why would he make a farce of being ‘compliant’ when there was no real consequence? His body reforms regardless of the damage done to it, and he’d learned to ignore his own screams a long time ago.

In truth, he could feel nothing. He knew every new beating was nothing more than a statistic – Something to be recorded and shelved away in the Manor’s vast library. But somewhere deep in his depraved, broken mind, he derived satisfaction from their anger. And he always craved more.

It was a drug to him, just like the cries of battle and the accompanying rush of adrenaline. With every crack of the whip and every snarled word, he came closer and closer to bliss.

Even now, the sound of Integra descending the dungeon stairs failed to instill any sort of dread in him. It wasn’t that he didn’t respect his Master – she’d proven her resolve on more than one occasion – but that he held no true fear of her. She was the mildest of them all; Abraham picked him to pieces in the old days, in the hopes of furthering his research. Arthur had followed suit, though his ‘studies’ never shared the same academic basis as his father’s had, for better or worse. And after enduring these two, there was very little that could surprise him anymore.

Alucard was already waiting for her, kneeling over his coffin. If it weren’t for his clothes, he would’ve looked like he was praying. The long red trench coat lay at his sides, with the undershirt and black suit pulled down to his waist, exposing his back to the cold air of the dungeon.

No words passed between them. The only sound was the tapping of shoes against stone, and the subtle whisper of breath that grew louder as his Master drew near. When the former ceased, he knew she was just behind him, and the grin on his face seemed to grow all the more twisted.

Integra merely glared down at him; He could tell by her manner that she wasn’t thrilled to do this. But then again, she never was. He almost made a remark about it, but was cut short by the sudden crack of a whip, followed by a stripe of searing pain across his back.

Either blessed, imbued with some holy artifact, or dipped in holy water, the tools she struck him with always hurt far more than a regular one would. The sudden bite of the whip made him double over his coffin, gripping its edge so hard that he threatened to break it. Snarling in pain, he bared his teeth at the black wood beneath him instead of looking up at his Master.

Again, she struck him, tearing flesh off his lower back with the tip of the implement, causing her to wince. Integra was young, and inexperienced. Despite her casual demeanor, she hadn’t yet learned to guard herself emotionally. Every time she had to resort to such brutal means of punishment, Alucard could sense the conflict rise within her, even if he wasn’t looking at her. She questioned her own actions, and the actions of those that preceded her. This monster, who so willingly offered his back to her, was the same one that would follow her orders without question, after all.

At times she felt it was wrong to treat him like this. She’d known him since she was young, and he was one of the few steadfast things in her life, aside from the significantly less unruly butler. From the moment they first met, he’d obeyed her orders without question, remorse, or regret. Every action he carried out on her behalf was of the upmost efficiency. Well… Most of them.

And at that thought, she had to remind herself why they were here in the first place. He’d gone out of his way to let innocent people lose their lives, and he’d happily do it again. To her, Alucard could be seen as nothing more than a tool – a violent monster to be kept on a short leash. Giving him slack was out of the question. She was already doing too much by punishing him only after the most egregious offenses…

She continued for a minute or so, having to steel herself in order to carry out the rest of the act. Occasionally she spat something hateful, condemning him for his actions, or reaffirming his place as a lowly tool. And as the number of bloody streaks covering his back grew, he began to slump further over the coffin, losing the will to hold himself up anymore. But that damnable smirk persisted, as it always did.

Slowly, his screams diminished, and his body shook no more, weakened by the gaping wound that his hide had been reduced to. Integra spat something else at him – no doubt meant to demean him further – but her words fell on deaf ears. Soon, she had withdrawn, leaving Alucard to his own devices.

A few moments passed before he could relax enough to let go of the coffin, and sit up again. The wounds at his back protested almost immediately, filling his nerves with white-hot searing pain enough to cripple a normal man. But all he did was groan a low, strained tone, letting the mix of pain and pleasure ring out into the darkness of the dungeon. He hadn’t a shred of dignity left in him. Not after all he had endured over the years.

After collecting himself, he carefully drew a hand over his bloodied back. His flesh had begun to heal – albeit much slower than usual – but there was still enough left to cover his hand in his own blood. He brought his hand back in front of himself to admire it, slowly spreading his fingers to watch as some of it dripped onto the floor. His severe grin finally began to lessen as he grew calm again, entranced by the pattern of red covering his hand. For a while, he could sit and do nothing but admire the gruesome painting, appreciating Integra’s work and reveling in the fleeting ache on his back.

His un-life was dedicated to making such beautiful paintings for his Master, after all. Whether it be with his own blood, or the enemy’s.

  
  
**~~**   
**Damn, this was my first fic in a long time. Maybe I've gotten better, maybe I've gotten worse, but there's always a starting point. This one's a bit rushed, so I'll probably end up re-visiting it at one point or another.**

**I hope to write at least a couple more chapters, one for each of the Hellsings, and maybe some little side-stories if I ever get around to it. For now, I hope you've enjoyed what I've got so far!**   
**-Bam**   
**~~**


End file.
